


Our First and Last Love

by punk_rock_yuppie



Series: To Sting Anything Which Happens to Stumble Upon It [1]
Category: Saw (Movies)
Genre: AU, Adam needs to love himself, M/M, Other, Trans!Adam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-08
Updated: 2015-04-08
Packaged: 2018-03-21 22:23:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3706227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punk_rock_yuppie/pseuds/punk_rock_yuppie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was on the tip of his tongue when Lawrence asked, what aren’t you telling me? Adam wasdeeply grateful, even if he doesn’t show it, for Lawrence interrupting him again, cutting the tirade short. It had been on the tip of his tongue, right after the bit about his vegan girlfriend—</p>
<p>
  <i>I was born female and I fucking hate myself because of it.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Our First and Last Love

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from the quote, "our first and last love is self-love" by Christian Nestell Bovee.
> 
> This is the beginning of my trans!Adam fic universe. There will definitely be more in the future, depending on how this is received. This fic also isn't necessarily chainshipping but later fics in the series probably will be.

It was on the tip of his tongue when Lawrence asked, _what aren’t you telling me?_ Adam was deeply grateful, even if he doesn’t show it, for Lawrence interrupting him again, cutting the tirade short. It had been on the tip of his tongue, right after the bit about his vegan girlfriend—

_I was born female and I fucking hate myself because of it_.

But Adam never said it, Lawrence didn’t find out that night, and that was okay. Lawrence crawled away and Adam, despite Lawrence’s promises, resigned himself to death once Jigsaw shut the door. Without Lawrence for company, the bathroom had seemed even colder, emptier, worse. Adam knew only a few hours had passed, the clock on the wall was still ticking away, but it had felt like an eternity. No water, no food, Adam felt as though his body was shutting down.

_How pathetic_ , he thought to himself. _You’ve barely been in here for a day and you’re already giving up_. Adam coughed, and as his body lurched pain shot through his shoulder. Tears leaked from his eyes without his consent. Sobs piled up inside and escaped before he could stop them.

_You deserve to die here_.

Adam only nodded along with the voice screaming inside his head.

)

It had started before Adam could really remember it. From deep in his bones he had always felt something was wrong with him. Something wasn’t right. Adam didn’t hate pink like a stereotype might suggest, but he hated other things. He hated skirts, hated the adorable little cats and sheep and hearts and bows that littered his young self’s underwear; he hated when his mom bought him his first training bra. Adam—then known as Ashleigh—hated everything about his body from the moment he understood what was going on.

As he got older, the hatred worsened. He hated that his mom forced him to wear bras even though his chest was practically nonexistent anyways; he hated having to change with the girls in locker rooms. He hated masturbating because it didn’t feel right, the parts weren’t right.

Growing up had been hell, especially coming from an upper middle class family that was far too concerned with what other people thought. Adam was never allowed out in less than a blouse and women’s jeans—and his mom would check. She would check to make sure he hadn’t stolen another pair of jeans from department store. She’d check the label and Adam would get an earful if he dared to wear something from the men’s section.

Adam had lasted until high school started. Then, he broke. He couldn’t take it, couldn’t take the way his breasts had grown, couldn’t take watching boys filter into their locker rooms while he was herded into the girl’s locker rooms instead. The pressure was unbearable. Even if no one knew what was burning inside him—he was a loner, even when he was a beautiful young woman—Adam felt like every person could see the lies he was telling.

Every single day it felt like the lie was going to suffocate him. So Adam ran away; he packed up one night and caught a train out of state and never looked back. His parents had tried to contact him, but he’d never reached out and never responded to the letters they sent. Eventually, they stopped coming. Adam did his best not to cry, and failed miserably.

)

Adam’s leg bounces up and down and he shifts uneasily where he sits on Lawrence’s couch. He’s just spilled his guts to the doctor and fears the worst. Words keep tumbling out, though, shaky and unsteady words. Adam is almost too afraid to let Lawrence speak.

“I was sixteen when I left, and I took whatever money I could find in the house. I cleaned out my parents’ wallets and turned the fucking house upside down to find every cent. I barely made it a week on that.” Adam laughs bitterly. “When I turned eighteen, I woke up to a couple grand in my bank account. I got a letter in the mail a few weeks later wishing me a happy late birthday and that was the last time I heard from them.

“I used the money to get—to fix my chest.” Adam amends, even though Lawrence is a doctor and knows exactly what ‘top surgery’ means. Adam’s hands instinctively cover his chest and he stares at the ground. “I never… I never fixed anything else. Aside from, y’know, hormone treatments.” Adam continues to fidget until eventually Lawrence grabs his restless hands.

“Thank you for telling me.” Lawrence tells him sincerely.

Silence stretches between them; during that time, Lawrence moves to sit beside Adam on the couch and places an arm around the young man’s shoulders. Lawrence’s grip is soft and reassuring.

“If you wanted…” Lawrence begins just as Adam’s eyelids have grown heavy. “I could help you get the money together for… for the rest of the procedures.”

Adam looks up from where he had almost dozed off against Lawrence, and stares. Part of him soars—his heart races and he’s so happy he almost can’t breathe. But as the glee fades a stronger, even better realization sets in. “No,” Adam pulls back, and shakes his head with a smile. “I think I’m okay now.”

They’re over a year removed from escaping the bathroom, and Adam has come a long way. He does cherish his life more, just as Jigsaw had intended. He got friends and something of a family out of the ordeal. He has the little sister he always sorta wanted in Diana, and Lawrence treats him like a dear friend. It’s been a long time since Adam looked at himself fully in the mirror and felt nothing but disgust.

Now, Adam can look at his reflection and not feel sick to his stomach. If anything, he feels completely at peace with his body. Having told someone his whole story for the first time in over a decade only furthered the feeling of freedom Adam had come to know. Not every day would be so easy, he knows all too well.

Many days will be too hard for words, and Adam knows he’ll struggle plenty. But, he’s hopeful for the future.

So he smiles at Lawrence and shakes his head. “I’m okay.”

**Author's Note:**

> Not super pleased with this but it's a solid foundation for the rest of what I wanna write, so there ya have it!


End file.
